


Bloodstream

by onceuponahungergames



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angry Lexa, F/F, Queer babies, clexa af
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-22 07:01:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6069709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onceuponahungergames/pseuds/onceuponahungergames
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of 3.05, Lexa reflects on her decision of not attacking the Sky People.</p><p>"I clench my fists so hard, I think I draw blood, but I could hardly care about that. I thought that the anger would be subdued if I just let myself indulge in it, but it's even more amplified. I want so much more. I want the blood that is owed to my people. I want revenge. Yet, I can't have it… because of her."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bloodstream

I sit here, alone in my tent. The only sound I hear is the crackling of the candles and faint voices outside. I've been playing with the knife in my hand for what seems like hours now. I need to do something other than this. I need to let this rage go or something horrific might happen to anyone who comes near me. Standing, I walk over a table in the middle of the tent. It has a water basin, glass bottles, and the bullet pulled from Indra's body. The same type of bullet to massacre three hundred of _my_ people.

My anger boils over and I throw the table across the room, water flows onto the ground and shattered glass litters the area. Everything then becomes a blur as I scramble to find anything I can throw or smash or destroy. If it can't be the Sky People, then inanimate objects will have to do. When I come back to my senses, I see what I've done. Everything in the tent has been torn, broken, splintered, and mutilated.

I clench my fists so hard, I think I draw blood, but I could hardly care about that. I thought that the anger would be subdued if I just let myself indulge in it, but it's even more amplified. I want so much more. I want the blood that is owed to my people. I want revenge. Yet, I can't have it… because of her.

I promised her I wouldn't hurt her people. I promised her my fealty. I promised her _myself_. Tears start to form in my eyes, but I raise my head and swallow. I _will not_ let them fall. Instead, I let out a strangled yell and sink to my knees. I wince in pain; my knee landed on something sharp. _The broken glass_ , I scold myself. _You couldn't hold back your emotions for a second and now look what you've done_.

Then, I hear movement outside. A guard comes in and says something, probably asking if I'm all right, but I shoo him away. I can't bear for anyone to see me in such a state. As if right on cue, I hear her voice. The guard is no match for her, really.

She comes in tent and I hear her take a sharp intake of breath. Obviously, she's seen how I've _redecorated_. "Lexa…" she rasps. I can't look at her, not until I calm down at least. She strides toward me and kneels beside me. "Dammit," she hisses. "Broken glass? Really, Lexa?" she tries to joke and pushes away the pieces under her.

I stay silent. I know that if I open my mouth I'll either start to scream at her for not letting my people be avenged or I'll become a blubbering fool. Her gaze searches my face for any sign of reaction, but I give none. I won't give her the satisfaction.

"Hey," she starts. "Look at me, Lexa." It's not a command; it's a plea. When I do look at her, she flinches away. I know she sees it: the murderous rage hiding behind my forest green eyes. "They all deserve to die," I mutter. "They deserve to feel the pain of three hundred deaths."

Clarke's eyes soften and it enrages me even further. "Don't you dare look pity on me, Wanheda," I spit. Her head drops and she lets out a sigh. She stands back up and I think that she is going to leave, but she doesn't. I look up and she's offering me her hand. "Let me at least get that glass out of you knee before you bleed all over the place," she offers.

Begrudgingly, I take her hand. As she pulls me up, I grimace at the sharp pain in my right knee. "That bad, huh?" she asks, brow raised in worry. I don't answer her.

"Let's take you over to your bed. I can work on you over there," she interrupts the silence. Our hands are still joined as we walk over to the bed. "Can you, uh," she stammers. I finish her thought by unceremoniously plopping down on the edge of the bed. Her lips part and a blush creeps across her cheeks. "Yeah, that's good." She leaves and searches around the tent for something she can use to bandage my knee.

Why is she so nervous around me all of a sudden? _Maybe it's because she sees you for the psychopathic Grounder you truly are_ , my thoughts sneer. "Shof op," I mumble, hopefully not loud enough for Clarke to hear. I watch her pick up a roll of bandages and the water basin and walks back to me.

"I, uh," she falters again. "I need you to take off your pants." My composure remains cool, but my heart is going faster. Without another word, I stand up and remove my pants. Clarke is following my every move, her eyes darkened slightly. At least I'm wearing a mid-thigh undergarment so this situation didn't have to get more…awkward, as the Sky People say. I sit back down, my eyes never leaving hers.

She kneels down in front of me and starts to examine the wound. It's actually not that bad. There's just a lot of blood. "Fuck," I hear her curse under her breath. "This could get infected, you know," she chastises. "Thankfully, I have Doctor Griffin here to make sure that doesn't happen," I respond. Her eyes flicker up to mine once more and I can see a small grin on her face.

As she is cleaning the blood around my wound, my fury is quelled a substantial amount. Just her hands brushing my skin brings me back to the present. Guilt washes over me as I take in my surroundings. I ruined the entire interior of the tent, made a mess of my knee, and got angry with Clarke for no reason. Well, there was a reason, but it wasn't her fault. She was just trying to save her people.

"I'm gonna pull the glass out now," she warns. I nod and grip at the furs under me. She forcefully pulls the shard out of my knee and I let out a low growl. Clarke seems out of breath as she drops the glass into the empty water basin. She continues to busy herself by wrapping my knee with some bandages and keeping pressure on it.

"There," she murmurs, her hands leaving my leg. "All finished." I peer down to look at her handiwork. I can see that blood has already started to come through the bandages and I look to Clarke. "I'll have to change it soon, but at least it's being controlled."

She stands to go, but I reach out to take her hand. "Thank you," I whisper. Her eyes are glassy and filled with sorrow. "I'm sorry, Lexa," she says. I shake my head. "No, Clarke, I am the one who should be sorry." We stay silent for a few moments. I want to tell her everything I feel, but I don't know if she wants to hear it.

I take a risk and ask, "Please, sit with me." Her mouth upturns slightly and she lowers herself onto the bed, hand still linked with mine. "I never act out like this, Clarke," I begin. "I have been trained my entire life to have control over my emotions. I can't be seen as weak in front of my own people."

She squeezes my hand and runs the pad of her thumb over my fingers. "You made one of the strongest choices I've ever seen, Lexa," she comforts me. "It's human to feel mad about this."

"But I am not supposed to feel what normal people feel," my voice shakes. "I am _not_ supposed to be weak." I go to turn my face away from her, but her hand on my cheek stops me. Her sky blue eyes pierce into mine and I break. "I'm so sorry, Clarke."

She pulls me into her arms and holds me while I finally let my tears go. After years of holding back, I finally cry for everyone I've lost. I cry for Costia, Anya, Gustus, my people who died in Tondc, leaving Clarke and her people at Mount Weather, and the genocide of three hundred of my peacekeeping warriors. I can feel Clarke's body shuddering against mine. I pull back to see her face and tears paint her cheeks in a shimmering glow.

"You deserve so much better than this," she mumbles. I reach up to her face and wipe a tear that just escaped her eye. " _We_ deserve better," I whisper back.

Suddenly, Clarke's expression changes from heartbroken to longing. "Maybe we do," falls from her lips. Her gaze drops to my lips and she leans in. Right before our lips meet, she stops. "Ai nou na teik yu gon we nowe," her hot breath caresses my lips. _I am never going to let you go_. I surge forward and capture her lips with mine.

Her hands tangle themselves in my hair as I pull our bodies closer. My lips move against hers in a messy, yet delicate, dance. "Lexa…" Clarke gasps against my lips. We part just so we can gaze into each other's eyes. My hands caress her face and she smiles. "Ai laik yun," I hum. _I am yours_.

She reclaims my lips in more fervor than the first kiss. "God," she rasps between kisses, "I want you, Lexa." I smile against her. "Then, take me."

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not sorry.
> 
> thanks for reading/loving. you're amazing
> 
> \-- juju :)


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